Risks
by Sorsha711
Summary: A New Year’s sequel to my Halloween fantasy, Whispers. Everything of worth has risks. What would you risk to find true love? JMOFC & OE Please R
1. Chapter 1

Title: Risks, Chapter 1

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC

Rating: M, adult content  
Disclaimer: The Munchkin isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh! DW owns him and the others.  
Summary: A New Year's sequel to my Halloween fantasy, _Whispers_. Everything of worth has risks; what would you risk to find true love? JM/OFC & OE

Please R&R

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Risks, Chapter 1

A sense of déjà vu settled in John's spirit as he shrugged off his coat and hung it in the closet by the front door. He paused next to his favorite chair as images from his dream the night before began to replay in his thoughts. Stifling a groan, he mused/Sad commentary on my life that the best sex I've ever had was in my dreams. Hell, the only sex I've had in… damn! It can't have been that long!/

Unwilling to obsess over a dream, John wondered into the kitchen in search of something to eat. Pouring himself a bowl of cold cereal, he leaned back against the counter to eat. Nominally occupied with his uninspired meal, the face of a beautiful raven-haired woman drifted into his thoughts.

It took him a moment to realize the woman was the one he had seen at the bar earlier in the evening rather than his dream lover from the night before… from countless dreams he had had since his youth. He was struck again by the uncanny resemblance she had to his fantasy woman. The provocative wink she had given him before disappearing into the bar had aroused more than just his curiosity.

To the amusement of his companions, he had followed her into the bar with the promise of buying the first round. His self-confidence bolstered by the wink, John had made no attempt to hide the fact he was searching the large, crowded room for his mystery lady. This had made him an easy target. Fin and Elliot had hassled him soundly about his chances to actually get anywhere with her. Elliot had gone as far as to say that she might let him buy her a few drinks, but that was as far as he would ever get with such a beauty.

Their comments had stung, echoing as they did his private doubts about himself. The hopeful attitude he had felt upon entering the bar had disappeared as quickly as it had come. His eyes had dropped back to the table and he had given up without trying to find her, though only Olivia seemed to notice. Some days he suspected she was the only one that took the time to notice him at all anymore.

In recent years, John had grown increasingly unwilling to take risks… venture out and try to meet someone for fear of exposing himself emotionally again. He had stopped trying not long after moving to New York. If asked, he knew the exact moment he had, for all intents and purposes, given up.

He and his partner had been at the ME's Office looking for a report on a vic. John had again approached the cold and indifferent Elizabeth Rogers for a date, asking if there was any circumstance where she would agree to have dinner with him. Rogers' reply had cut to the quick… "Not while I can still feed myself."

The fact that Rogers had an 'on and off' relationship with his friend and unspoken rival, Lennie Briscoe, had added insult to injury. It had been a blow to his pride to learn that Briscoe had had an affair with Gwen, his first wife. That knowledge had reopened an old wound left from the failure of his first marriage. After years of coming up short in matters of love, Rogers' rejection had been the final blow that drove him into hiding.

Ever since, John had spent most of his nights alone in his apartment with only the TV and the internet for company. A few one-night stands, fueled by alcohol not genuine desire, did not count by his reckoning. John was alone and lonely. His colleagues had… without deliberate intent he hoped, struck his emotional Achilles Heel with their teasing.

John had been rescued from being pushed to make a move that might have proved them right when Cragen's cell phone had rung. He and his fellow detectives had been called to a crime scene across town. Downing a few quick swallows of their beers, the group had risen and left in mass… except for him. He had paused briefly at the bar to pay for the virtually untouched pitcher and Don's soda, grumbling at the waste of both the beer and money. He had refused to turn his head to scan the room for his mystery woman, a mix of disappointment and relief warring in his heart.

SVU had spent the rest of the evening dealing with a rape victim, one that seemed to feel more at ease with him than Olivia. Sue Tanner had grabbed his arm the moment he had arrived at the hospital and had not let it go until her mother arrived several hours later. It was particularly draining for the unit if it one of them became the emotional anchor for their vic. For John, it made it impossible to maintain his facade of jaded indifference.

His meal finished, John ran a little water over the bowl and left it in the sink to wash in the morning. Trudging more than walking, John entered his bedroom and pulled off his jacket. Standing before his dresser, he began to empty his pockets, the accumulation of items from his day ending up in a small bowl he kept for this purpose. Slipping his hand inside the left front flap, he pulled out a slip of paper. The name Esmerelda and a phone number were written in emerald-green ink in a neat, old-fashioned script.

Stunned, his eyes lifted involuntarily to stare into the cloudy depths of his mother's mirror. "How…?" A faint glow seemed to shimmer in the heart of the mirror… otherwise, the surface remained still.

Dropping down onto the edge of his bed, John spent the next hour alternating his focus between the mirror and the slip of paper in his hand. Realizing how late it had become, he reluctantly rose to complete his nightly ablutions. Once in bed, he tossed and turned for some time before falling into a deep sleep... one shared with an exotically beautiful woman.

-----

"What's that?"

Startled, John looked up to find Olivia watching him. "What's… what?"

A teasing grin preceded, "I asked first. What's that in your hand? You've been staring at it for an hour."

A faint blush stole over his cheeks as he reached into his pocket for his wallet. Tucking the slip of paper carefully away in a secure place, he attempted to change the topic of conversation. "Nothing. Have we gotten the report on the rape kit from last night yet?"

"It's right in front of you, John," she replied, pointing to the requested document. In a gentle voice, she added, "I put it there over ten minutes ago… you even thanked me when I did."

Grabbing up the requested document, John sought to hide once again in his work. "Sorry… I guess I'm just tired. They didn't get a match to the semen sample from the kit."

Shaking her head, Olivia noted, "Hummm… I think I said that… ten minutes ago."

"Some things need to be repeated," John muttered, a bite to his voice hinting at his discomfort at their conversation. "I think we need to re-interview Sue Tanner and see if she's remembered anything now that she's had time to calm down a little. She was too emotional last night to give us much."

Sighing, Olivia relented for the moment. "Fine. I'll drive."

-----

Olivia pulled their sedan into the late morning traffic following a fruitless visit to see their victim. Sue Tanner had been unable to give them any more information about the attack or to give them a description of her rapist. Once again, the woman had clung to John and her partner had left the Tanner apartment exhausted from the effort to be supportive.

They drove in silence for several miles. John was lost in his own thoughts, a nagging feeling that he was missing something had him sorting through the information they had thus far uncovered in hopes of identifying what was bothering him. A frown darkened his features and he momentarily forgot he was not alone.

Glancing to her right, Olivia noted that John was staring out the window, deep in thought. She had, as he had suspected, seen the effect their partners' none-too gentle teasing had had on him. It had depressed to her watch him sink back into himself rather than risk striking up a conversation with the woman that had flirted with him at the bar's entrance. Olivia had read Elliot the riot act on the drive to the crime scene, but she had little hope it had made any difference in her partner's view of John. /Hell, Elliot's point of view on a lot of things isn't what I want. If only…/

Refusing to let her mind go down that path yet again, she glanced again at John. She had long ago come to the conclusion that she was the only one to realize how lonely and depressed he was becoming. She knew their work consumed him as much as it did the rest of them, but he had lost the ability to detach himself from their cases… not that any of them were very good at doing that. He had no one to share his life and he spent most of his time off alone. She was unable to remember the last time he had said anything that even hinted that he had been on a date… or gone to any social event other than their infrequent after work drinks.

As for their work, it was easy for the rest of their squad to ignore how often John was the one that got stuck with the less pleasant aspects of their investigations. Given their work, the nature of those 'aspects' made her shudder. John was the one that slogged through videos of abuse and the stacks of the twisted pornography… including materials involving children. Olivia suspected he did it to protect his partners from the mental damage prolonged exposure to that type of depravity caused, but there was no one protecting him.

John was the one that dug through old records and pursued leads that required hours of tedious digging. His contributions to their cases were always critical, but they were often overlooked by the time the perp arrived in the interrogation room. She and Elliot were the ones given the credit most of the time. John, and to a lesser extent, Fin often labored in the background on many of their cases, largely unrecognized.

She had said as much to Elliot, but he had been quick to take offense to her observations. His 'that's what he's good at,' had infuriated her as had his comment 'that stuff doesn't get to him like it does most people.' A heated argument had followed, as Olivia had demanded Elliot accept responsibility for his attitude and he had taken offense to her comments.

In her heart, she knew that the argument had been triggered as much by all the issues they were ignoring as by what she said. Since returning from her stint with the FBI… since seeing him with Dani Beck, any ease they might once have had in each other's company was strained at best. She was at a loss for how to reconcile their problems… how to let him know she had no desire to return to their old partnership. She wanted… needed more.

The tension between them had not dissipated overnight and Elliot had asked Fin to partner him when he left to track a suspected perp on another open case. She knew Elliot understood her too well to think she had finished having her say and he was hoping to avoid her until she became distracted by a case. Truth be told, she suspected he knew she was right, but it was easier to stick to his surface impression of John rather than admit he saw what was happening to the other man. His own life was still in turmoil since the end of his marriage to Kathy and he wasn't ready to add someone else's problems to the mix.

If she was willing to give Elliot a few breaks for now, she did not feel so generous with the others. Fin and Don had been as bad as Elliot, but they had less excuse. Both had taken the time to get to know John beyond his oft-times annoying facade. They had been single for a long time too and should be more understanding in her estimation. It bothered her that they did not seem to respect the sacrifices John made for the good of the unit. Teasing was one thing, but hitting a man where he was vulnerable was another.

/Damn it! They should have been encouraging him to make a move, not give up without trying! MEN!!!/

She had seen the way the other woman had looked at John and Olivia had no doubts the woman's interest had been genuine. Liv had long-ago realized John's bluster was just that, talk to hide his insecurities. She doubted he truly understood how attractive he could be when he was just himself, his sarcastic facade set aside for the moment.

"You shouldn't let them get to you, John. That lady was interested," she offered, hoping to engage him in a conversation. "You should have at least said hello to her before we left."

Turning his head, John silently studied her. "What makes you think they weren't right about my chances?"

"I saw how she was looking at you. She thought you were attractive," Olivia began. "I could feel it. And, why wouldn't she be? You're a very compelling man, John."

An off-center smile… one that tugged at her heart, failed to brighten his face. "That's sweet, Liv, but…"

"But nothing, John," she interjected, motivated by a sudden fierce desire to try to get through to him. "She was flirting with you. I wish you could have seen yourself before we went inside. You were laughing and relaxed… you looked handsome, sophisticated and very intelligent. That's a very attractive package to any woman. There were three other men there and she chose to flirt with **you **for a reason, my friend."

Hesitating for a moment, he admitted, "I really appreciate the pep talk, Liv, but I can't pretend I think I'm any of those things anymore."

"I somehow doubt you ever really believed it, John," Olivia asserted. "That's sad, because you should; you're all of those things. You have a lot to offer a lady."

Shaking his head, he tried to divert the direction of their conversation by teasing, "If I didn't know you were nuts about Elliot, I might think I had a chance."

Grinning, she admitted, "If you had made a move a few years ago, you might have!"

Chuckling, he replied, "A day late and a dollar short… story of my life! Why couldn't we have had this conversation in time for it to do me some good, beautiful?"

Stopping for a red light, Olivia turned to fix him with a challenging stare. "I'm hoping it still might, John. Stop selling yourself short and be open to taking a few risks. It hurts to see you giving up. You deserve so much better. I could slug Elliot and Fin for being such asses last night!"

"Thanks, but…"

"But nothing! That lady was interested!" she exclaimed. "What do you want… an engraved invitation??"

The image of the finely scripted note in his wallet popped instantly to mind. /An engraved invitation? Is that what it was?/ Before he could respond further to her challenge, the answer to the nagging feeling that had been plaguing him came to him.

"Sue Tanner knows who raped her," John blurted out. "She's scared and is refusing to let herself admit she knows him. Remember what she said about…"

-----

John arrived home a little after 8 that evening, the day ending on a high note. A return visit to Sue Tanner had confirmed his hunch. The woman had been gently encouraged to face the truth and had tearfully told them what she suspected. They had arrested the perp… her widowed mother's boyfriend, less than two hours later. He had confessed as they were taking a DNA swab to compare to the semen sample left by the rapist.

Shedding his coat and jacket, John turned on his computer, planning to spend a few hours surfing the net before bed. The Yahoo homepage shimmered into place on the screen, but he hesitated several seconds before typing in a search query… Esmerelda Kirpachi, the name of his dream lover from the night before. It took only a few nano-seconds for a list of possible matches to appear.

One match in particular called to him. Hitting the link for a SoHo artist of that name, he felt a shiver of arousal rock through his body. The picture of the artist in question dominated one side of the page's layout. The woman was, without doubt, the lady he had seen in the doorway of the bar.

Never taking his eyes off of her screen image, he reached into his pocket for his wallet. Carefully pulling out the slip of paper with her name and phone number on it, he spread it out on the table next to his laptop. Her home page had a short greeting that she had 'signed' in virtual green ink. He saw no obvious difference between her signature on the screen and the beautifully scripted name on his slip of paper. The virtual ink and the real ink also appeared to be the same shade of green.

Trembling slightly, John began to flip through the website, pausing to carefully read her bio. /She's Romanian… her maternal grandfather was a Roma Gypsy! He came from the Carpathian Mountains like my grandmother. Her parents fled the Nazis… immigrated to the States after the war./

Near the bottom of one page, he found it… a quote in Romany he had subconsciously been hoping to find. _"Si khohaimo may pachivalo sar o chachimo."_ After it, she had added in English, "So often, the things we need the most are found not with logic and reason, but in ways that have no rational explanation. When we avoid risks, the truth can elude us and all we have left are empty, convenient lies. Love, passion… excitement require us to be open… to dare… to hope." (_Romany for 'There are lies more believable than truth_.')

John did not remember reaching for his phone or dialing her number. A soft, silky voice caressed his ear, strangely familiar and full of promise. Taking a deep breath, he took a risk. "Is this Esmerelda?"

"Yes. Who..." A brief hesitation preceded a soft, "Hi. I was hoping you would call."

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	2. Chapter 2

Title: Risks, Chapter 2

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC & OE

Rating: M, adult content  
Disclaimer: The Munchkin isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh! DW owns him and the others.  
Summary: A sequel to my Halloween fantasy, _Whispers_. Everything of worth has risks; what would you risk to find true love? JM/OFC & OE

Feedback greatly appreciated!!!

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Risks, Chapter 2

John hesitated at the door of the small jazz bar in the East Village. He and Esmerelda had agreed to meet there for a drink after a couple of long phone conversations in the evenings after he had made that first call. He had been surprised by how easy it had been to talk to her, by how many interests they had in common. Now that he was at the bar, however, he found his confidence wavering.

A soft voice broke into the silent pep talk he was giving himself to go inside. "John?"

Swinging around, John found himself staring into a pair of lovely green eyes. Up close, the eerie resemblance she bore to his dream lover was even more striking and caused a shiver of remembered pleasure to ripple through him. "Esmerelda! I… it's good to finally meet you."

"It's good to finally meet you too, John." Tilting her head to the side to study him, she urged, "Please call me Rella. Esmerelda is too unwieldy for regular use."

Beginning to relax, John opened the door to the bar, stepping to one side so that she could enter. "I like Esmerelda. It's slightly exotic and mysterious… not commonplace like my name. Besides, it's perfect for someone with eyes like yours."

Smiling, she countered, "And I like the name, John. It's real and solid. It makes me think of someone I can trust… depend upon."

Spotting a table in a quiet corner, John followed her as they wove their way across the crowded room. "Thanks for not saying it's boring," he joked.

Settling into one of the two chairs, Rella teased, "I somehow feel safe in guessing few people find you boring."

Her smile made him catch his breath and he found himself staring helplessly into her vivid green eyes. "I… urrgh. No, I guess not. What would you like to drink?"

That momentary glimpse of the gentle, vulnerable man peeking out at her from behind the walls he had built around himself called to her and she found herself being captivated by him in return. "I… urrgh… a martini would be nice. Vodka, straight-up, three olives."

After giving their order to a passing waiter, an awkward silence settled around the table. Neither had been prepared for their elemental reaction to each other. "So… you're an artist. I looked at your site on the web. I love the portraits you posted… so expressive, especially the eyes."

"The eyes are the key to any portrait… painted or a photograph," she replied, relieved to have a safe topic to distract them while she tried to wrap her mind around what she was feeling. "If the eyes speak to you, the rest of the work makes sense. If they are flat… devoid of life, the whole composition fails."

"I couldn't help but notice…" he began, surprising himself by bringing up a potentially explosive issue this soon into their acquaintance, "that one of those portraits looks like me."

Feeling exposed, she slowly murmured, "Yes… it does."

Motivated by a fierce need to know, he pressed, "How is that?"

Wrenching her eyes away from his compelling gaze, Rella stared at the table. "This may sound… insane, but… that day I saw you… I turned back to look because you looked so very familiar. I felt like I knew you already."

"I had the same reaction seeing you," he admitted. "You look just like a woman…"

"A woman what, John?" she pressed, unconsciously leaning toward him.

Their waiter arrived at that moment with their drinks. Taking a bracing sip of his martini, John let the fiery liquid burn down his throat. In a rough whisper, he admitted, "A woman… that has been in my dreams since I was a child."

Rella held his gaze for a moment as she came to a decision. "Can we leave this for a little while? Talk about other things? Once we finish our drinks, there's something I need to show you."

Confused, but intrigued, he nodded. /What can she have to show me?/

-----

"Have you seen Munch? He disappeared after we got back from the ME's and I can't find him."

Looking up, Elliot shook his head. "Sorry, man. I haven't seen him in an hour or so. What's up?"

Fin dropped into the chair beside the other detective's desk. "It's Friday, so I was going to see if he wanted to get out of here at a decent hour and go for a beer… maybe try that bar we went to on Halloween again."

"Translation… you feel guilty too for being such an ass that night and want to give him another shot at that woman," Elliot prompted, pushing away from his desk to lounge in his chair. "Olivia read me the riot act for hassling him about her. She got me thinking. He does need to get out more. I made me notice how down John has been getting… especially since his Uncle had his breakdown. None of us have done much to help him get back on track."

"That explains the evil eye that Liv has been giving me," Fin noted, trading a rueful grin with Elliot. "I have no excuse. I've seen things were getting bad. You know about his father?"

Frowning, Elliot shook his head. "Know what?"

"His father committed suicide when he was a teenager."

Turning, the pair found they had been joined by Olivia and Don Cragen. All eyes focused on Olivia. The worried expression on her face reinforced their own concerns for their friend and colleague.

"Damn! He never told me that," Cragen admitted. "You both knew?"

"Shit! I didn't know that either!" Elliot exclaimed, noting that both Fin and Olivia were nodding their heads in response to Cragen's question. "No wonder you were so mad at me. I guess that also explains why his Uncle's problems hit him so hard."

Nodding again, she took her seat. "I wish I had been here to support him through that. Your temp partner wasn't much help, that's for sure! I coaxed him into talking to me about it when I got back, but… John needs help, guys. He deserved better than the two of you tearing him down because your vanity got ruffled that a beautiful woman flirted with him rather than either of you."

"That's not…" Elliot began.

"Yeah, it is, man," Fin inserted, rubbing his neck in frustration. "All four of us noticed her and its natural to want to attract someone that looks like that. If it had been one of us, we would have taken the jibes in stride. We have a little more confidence that a beauty like that might have been seriously attracted to us. We made John doubt himself too much to make a move. He's all talk anymore when it comes to the ladies."

"Speak for yourself," Don complained. "I pretty sure I've never attracted a woman that looked like that one, so I would have been in the same boat as John! She was as beautiful as any woman I've ever seen. She was in our esteemed colleague's league. And yes, Olivia, I mean you."

Chuckling at the embarrassed glare being directed at their Captain, Elliot sobered as he admitted, "I didn't know about John's family history. I guess that confirms your claims, Liv, that I don't consider the effect of our work on him. I really do respect him… consider him to be a good friend. It's just… I've never figured out how to read John. I can think of only a handful of times he's made sense to me… his anger over Sara Logan's murder, Amy Solwey… that transplant fiasco, and his Uncle."

"Yeah, he can be hard to get," Fin agreed. "It took me a while to see through his act and, like I said, I have no excuse for not seeing what our teasing was doing to him. It didn't hit me until we were driving to the scene afterwards. He was quiet and withdrawn… he gets like that sometimes, but he had been so stoked earlier, I made the connection. It was too late then."

"So, what do we do to help him?" Elliot asked.

"Well, we need to do a better job of spreading out the burden of digging through pictures and vids of abuse. He gets stuck with most of that," Olivia insisted. "That can't be good for him!"

"Yeah, but he always volunteers, so…" Fin began. "I never got that."

"He's trying to protect the rest of you," Don replied, dropping down onto the edge of Elliot's desk. "He doesn't want those images in your heads any more than is absolutely necessary, so he does it to spare you and then he can't sleep for weeks… longer some times."

"Damn! That makes sense, but I never thought about it."

"He didn't want us to get it," Olivia observed. "That's just John. He does what he does for his own reasons… acts sarcastic to deflect speculation about his private thoughts, so it takes effort to understand him. We get busy… or stressed out over a case and it's easier not to notice than make the effort."

"So… where is he?" Fin asked, going back to his original question. "I'd like to take him for a beer at that bar… maybe see if that lady is there. He needs someone in his life. Hell, getting laid would be a good start. I can't remember the last time he even tried to hook up with someone when we go out for drinks."

"I think it's to the point that a one-night-stand is the last thing he needs," Don countered. "One night then he's back to being alone. That makes him notice it more and feel cheated."

"Speaking from experience, Cap?" Elliot teased, ducking as Olivia through a wad of paper at his head. He sometimes found it hard not to stare when her beautiful face lit up with that mischievous grin. /Damn! I wish I knew who she's been seeing. I don't get why she's making him such a mystery./

"Yeah… you and Fin are too young to get it yet," Cragen sighed, "But you will! Trust me… you will!"

"Naw, I'm getting there too," Fin admitted. "Last time I hooked up with a young hottie at a bar… I felt pretty good about it that night, but the next morning was a different story. Way too much chatter for that early and… she couldn't have been but year or so older than my son, Ken! It was just sex with no future for either of us and that's getting old. I felt like a perv leaving her place, then ducking her calls. Starting to feel like one of those pathetic guys we see with their trophy wives milking them dry and they're too blind to see it. Sad!"

"Sad and then some," Cragen agreed, secretly relieved that he wasn't the only one feeling like that in this group. "So, where is John? We should all take him for that drink."

George Huang walked into the squadroom in time to hear Cragen's question. "I saw John leaving when I got here… around 6. He caught a cab out front."

"Well, I guess that means we will have to try again on Monday," Elliot observed. "I think we all agree we need to do something to help him."

"Finally notices how depressed he's become?" Huang demanded.

"Damn, not you too!"

-----

Their cab deposited them in front of a converted warehouse in SoHo. The hulking building had been carved into residential lofts in the late 70's as the area transformed into a trendy artist community. Riding the elevator to the top floor, John followed Rella down the hall to the last unit on the left.

"I forgot to ask… you're not allergic to cats or dogs are you?" she asked, her key poised in the lock.

Shaking his head, he admitted, "No, but cats usually hate me. Dogs are a toss-up."

"I should warn you… I have a bad habit of taking in strays. I'm usually in violation of City codes," she cautioned. "I find homes for most of them… eventually, but I have five cats and three dogs that are mine. I need to find homes for some of the others, but they have to be good homes. I wish I could keep them all, but they need their own person."

Even with her warning, John found himself staring in shock at the sight that greeted them. "Rella… there must be two dozen animals in here!"

Shaking her head, she grinned up at him as she knelt to greet her menagerie. "Just eighteen. The five kittens will all be leaving in a week or so. I have homes arranged for them, but they are still too little to place. Their mother died from complications in their birth, so her owner… my agent, asked me to help him bottle raise the litter. It was easier just to bring them here. They needed more care in the early days than he could give them. I was up and down at all hours feeding them a special formula that simulates a mother cat's milk. It was touch and go if we could save them for a week at least. Aren't they precious?"

A massive brindle Irish wolfhound had taken up position in front of him, flanked by a red-sable sheltie and a large orange-coated tomcat. The three were eyeing him warily. "Rella… I don't think they like me."

Looking back in his direction, she began to chuckle. "Boys, this is John. He's a friend, so give him a chance, OK?"

The sheltie took a cautious step forward and sniffed his hand. Apparently satisfied by what he found, he began to wag his tail in greeting. That was the signal the wolfhound had been waiting to see. Barking happily, he jumped up to place his front paws on John's shoulders.

Unprepared, John took an instinctive step backwards, only to find his path blocked by a small mixed-breed terrier that had appeared without his noticing. "Urrr… Rella?"

"Down Tal!" Rising quickly, she moved over to free John from the clutches of her pets. "Tal… short for Taliesin, is just an overgrown puppy, so you have to treat him like one. Will is the sheltie. He's our ambassador. If he likes you… which he seems to, the rest will follow his lead. Well, except for Max… the cat. He's very protective of me and you'll have to win him over. The little dog is Fancy. She the one that stirs things up… playtime is all the time in her book and she thinks an empty lap is an invitation, but she sheds, so consider that another warning."

Four female cats had formed a semi-circle around the small group, watching the goings-on with a mix of curiosity and distain. "The other ladies of the house are… beginning on the right, Maggie, Lady D, Jewel, and Clover. They're in charge, but the others… especially Max, refuse to admit it."

Regaining his bearings, John found himself smiling as he bent to scratch Tal and her other protectors behind their ears. Max refused to relent and continued to watch the man with an unwavering glare. "And the rest?"

"I try not to name the ones I have to find another home. Naming them makes it harder to let them go," she confessed. "Rufus is the cocker spaniel. He's just visiting while his owners are in California. He goes home this Friday, don't you boy?"

"So, you have four more that need a home?"

Sighing, she nodded. "Three cats and the poodle-mix. The latter was rescued by friends who found her in the middle of Broadway Halloween night. We posted flyers… put an ad in the paper, but so far no one has called to claim her. She's well fed and healthy, so she isn't a stray. I hope her owner sees them and calls soon. She's clearly missing her person."

Moving over to a coat closet, she shrugged off her coat. Holding out her hand for his, she continued. "I will probably end up keeping the grey and white cat by the bathroom door. He's blind in one eye and it will be hard to find him a suitable home. He's shy, so he'll hang back until he trusts you."

Pointing across the room, she noted, "The other two that need a home are sitting on the back of the couch. The male is only a few months old and would make a great pet for someone. The female was hit by a car and is just now recovered enough to be placed. She's fixed… well, all of them are except the baby kittens. She's sweet… less than a year old I'd guess and she really needs a home."

"I may know someone that would like to have her," John offered. "One of the detectives in my squad mentioned wanting to get a cat for his daughter. I'll ask him on Monday if you want. If she's already been spayed and is litter-trained, she would be a good fit for them."

"Great! I'm always looking for good homes," Rella smiled. "Can I fix you a drink… something to eat?"

"Sure. Whatever you're having," he agreed, pleasantly surprised by how relaxed he was to be in her home for the first time.

Moving forward into the room, John quickly scanned the large loft, noting a bed tucked behind curtains in the left corner of the space under a cantilevered balcony. From his vantage point, he noted the upper level was used as her studio. A couch and several chairs had been arranged in front of a fireplace on the right wall of the unit. An open kitchen occupied the space to his right. A modest-sized dining table and chairs had found their place nearby. The unit's only other room was to his left, the bathroom from what she had said earlier.

Vivid paintings covered the walls of the lower level. Sculpture and objects of all sorts were everywhere, often vying for space with hundreds of books that overflowed floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Fascinated, he slowly began to study the items closest to him, silently hoping he had other chances to view the rest in the detail they deserved. Her pets shadowed him as he slowly made his way toward the living room, periodically nudging him for attention when he paused to study a canvas.

Rella watched him from the kitchen as she began to assemble a light meal. She was pleased by his reaction to her eclectic collection, many of them her own work. Having learned long ago that she could learn a lot about a person from watching them react to her art, she remained silent and let him take it all in at his own pace. Her pets' reaction to him amazed her as they seldom took to strangers as quickly as they had him. By the time their meal was ready, she was sure her instincts about him had been right, they shared an innate compatibility.

Regretting the need to interrupt him, she called, "Would you mind lighting the fire, John? There is a chill in the air. I love fires on cold nights. We can eat in the living room and soak up the heat."

Startled, he looked over to find her watching him, a tray in her hands. Sweeping his hands to encompass what he had been studying, he exclaimed, "This is… amazing… brilliant!"

-----

Several hours passed as they talked and shared a platter of finger food… cheese, marinated shrimp, and fruit for the most part, and a bottle of wine. An antique clock on the mantel over the fireplace startled them when it chimed midnight. Neither had noticed how late it had gotten.

After a short pause, Rella rose to her feet and offered him her hand. "I haven't shown you what we came here to see. I got distracted by our conversation."

A little embarrassed by how thoroughly he had lost track of time, John rose to join her. "I enjoyed it."

Smiling, she nodded in agreement. "So did I."

Still holding his hand, Rella lead him into the area protected from casual observation by the curtains that shrouded her bed. Taking a calming breath, he followed her into the private space. Inside, he found not only her bed, but a small sitting area and a desk. All of that was, however, totally ignored as he stared at the paintings and sketches that covered almost every inch of the walls in the room.

Some of them were of a tall, lanky man. Others were of a skinny, awkward boy, many with a green-eyed, raven-haired girl watching him from behind trees or around corners. Others… the ones that captured his stunned gaze most forcefully, were of a man and woman in poses that ranged from innocent to intimate. In all cases, the man… the boy, was him and the lovely woman in his arms… at his side… entwined with his body, was Rella.

"How…?"

"You're not the only one to have dreams, John."

-----


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Risks, Chapter 3

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC

Rating: M, adult content  
Disclaimer: The Munchkin isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh! DW owns him and the others.  
Summary: A sequel to my Halloween fantasy, _Whispers_. Everything of worth has risks; what would you risk to find true love? JM/OFC & OE

Please read and review!!

------

Risks, Chapter 3

"Huph!"

John woke with a start as something landed on his chest. Confused, he looked up to find a pair of bright blue-eyes watching him. Apparently satisfied with what she found, the cat began to purr loudly, nudging his hand in an imperious demand for attention.

A sleepy voice near his ear offered, "Ummm… that must be Maggie. She purrs at the drop of a hat."

Craning his neck, he tried to meet the eyes of his bed-mate. A thick tumble of blue-black hair blocked his efforts, covering as it did most of her face. Amused… and a little uncertain about his situation, John gave into the cat's demands and began to rub her head. "You know their purrs apart?"

Shifting slightly to cuddle more closely into his side, she admitted, "Of course. They are each distinct little beings with their own personalities and traits. I think Maggie… she's a chocolate-point Himalayan, was an empress in a former life… maybe a czarina."

Chuckling softly, he pressed, "And the others?"

"Lady D… the Siamese, is named after Billie Holiday for a reason… she's a diva," was her mumbled reply. "Be sure to admire her next performance… she yodels for lack of a better description, or she will get huffy and leave hairballs in your shoes."

"You're kidding??" he grinned, pleased by the implied assumption his shoes would be back in the loft… and off his feet again.

"Nope, all true." Reaching up to shove the curtain of hair out of her eyes, she warned, "I don't want to hear any complaints after I gave you fair warning."

"Duly noted," John murmured, lost in the depths of her sleepy gaze.

"Clover, the orange-marmalade, is a free-spirit. She's happy-go-lucky and gets herself into also sorts of places she has no business being, but she's so cute I forget to scold her most of the time. Drawers and boxes are her favorite places," she continued, reaching up to gently smooth his 'bed-head'. "Jewel, the tortoise-shell Persian, is spoiled and demanding… is content to sit in the sun all day and be waited on hand and paw, but she's very loving, so she gets away with murder. Max-a-million is my protector. He thinks he's in charge of everything… including me, and gets pouty when he doesn't get his way… typical male! He's a love though."

Wanting nothing more than to kiss her, he forced himself to concentrate on this line of conversation for now, unsure of what would happen between them in the light of day. "Do you really plan to keep the other cat… the blind one?"

"He's not completely blind… and yes, I guess I do. I have a name picked out for him… Toby, so I guess that seals it," she admitted, shifting so that she could study his expression to see how he was reacting to waking with her. She quickly noted the uncertainty he was trying to hide.

Deciding it might help them both if she started this conversation, she softly asked, "Are you OK with this, John? I didn't plan for this to happen, but I don't regret that it did. I think I've been waiting for you all my life. I just wanted you to see the paintings so you would understand that. I'm hoping this will be more than one night."

Giving into his desire to kiss her, John pulled her up into a lingering kiss. A relieved, hopeful smile accompanied his heartfelt whisper, "So do I."

-----

_Flashback_

_John stared at her private gallery of dream inspired art. Overwhelmed, he turned to find Rella watching him from just inside the curtained doorway into her bedroom. Though he had only really known her for a few hours, he immediately sensed that she was scared… worried about his reaction to what she was showing him._

_Unable to stop himself, John moved to her and pulled her possessively into his arms. The first moment their lips touched, a smoldering passion burst into flames between them… a fire that had crackled just below the surface since their eyes had met in the doorway of that neighborhood bar. He was never sure how they got to the bed, but he would never forget the sight, the feel, the taste of her body as it was slowly bared to his touch. _

_Their love-making was earthy and elemental, expressing their mutual need to claim and be claimed in return. Her throaty moans of pleasure fueled his passion and he subconsciously expected to find scorched skin wherever her hands… her mouth… her body touched his. Their passion built, threatening to spiral out of control… yet its climax came far sooner than either wanted. They wanted it to last forever, the power of their release almost too much to bear._

_Their breathing had not completely returned to normal... their hearts still raced, when the next wave of passion was upon them. They slept little, talked less that night. Their bodies demanded what they had dreamed of for so long and neither had the will to resist. Dawn had already brightened the horizon with the light of a new day before they fell into a deep, sated sleep… finally held in the arms of their dream lovers, lovers at last made flesh. _

_End flashback_

-----

Both were surprised to feel the passion that had consumed them the night before reignite with that kiss. Secretly, each had feared there would be nothing left after that mind-blowing experience. Shivering with need, John rolled Rella beneath him and they fell into the fire again.

-----

John took a sip of his coffee as he silently watched Rella scramble eggs for a late bunch, the breakfast hour having passed hours earlier. His body was still humming with the energy of their love-making and his mind refused to settle on a single topic. Hearing their toast pop up in the toaster, he rose to retrieve it. Accepting the butter she slid his way, he slathered each piece with a generous coating.

"There's jam… and some lemon curd and marmalade in the frig, John. Choose whatever you want," she offered, scrapping the eggs onto a platter with the turkey bacon she had already cooked.

Hearing the nervous waver in her voice, John bent to press a kiss to her shoulder. "I guess that's another thing we have in common… we both have a sweet tooth."

A small gasp accompanied the gentle caress of his lips as they ghosted from her shoulder to her throat. "Keep that up and these eggs will get cold before we get around to eating them," she breathed, the smile of a temptress lighting her face.

Groaning, John rested his forehead against her neck for a moment before turning to open the refrigerator. Grabbing a jar of blackberry jam to place next to the toast on the table, he admitted, "I think I need some food… and a little more time to recover before that could happen again, but thanks for the vote of confidence, beautiful."

"I could accuse you of leading me on if I didn't feel the same way… though I realize it's a little different for you," she teased, relieved to be talking.

She felt stunned… overwhelmed by what was happening and needed to hear him confirm again he wanted more than a night… a night and most of a morning, in her bed. Rella knew she was falling in love with him… falling fast and hard, and she needed some reassurances he would be back. She also knew it was too much to hope he felt the same way this soon. Her only hope at this moment was that he would stay around long enough for that to happen.

Her teasing observation made him laugh outright. "More than a little different!! I'm 54 years old, so we've already far exceeded my expectations. Hell, last night exceeded any expectations I might have had when I was eighteen!!"

Dropping her head in a moment of uncharacteristic shyness, she admitted, "I've never had much in the way of expectations. I always wondered what was wrong with me that I didn't have much interest in sex… except in my dreams. Last night was a revelation for me."

Bolstered by her admissions, John took the platter from her hands and put it next to the rest of their meal. Tugging her into his arms, he whispered against her hair, "I meant what I said, Rella. I would like to see if this can be more than one night or a causal affair. I hope that was what you meant too."

Her arms tightened around his waist. "Yes, it was."

"Good. I guess we need to talk… take a step back and get to know each other," John offered, hoping she would agree. "This is happening pretty fast for both of us."

He was feeling more than a little overwhelmed; he had been alone for years and she was quickly slipping into all the empty spots in his spirit. He needed time to sort out what he was feeling…that he was feeling anything at all at this point in his life was a shock. He also needed time, time for the burgeoning emotions they were feeling to become more. John knew he was falling in love with her, but he also knew it was unreasonable to expect her to feel the same this soon.

He felt her relax against him. "Sounds right."

"OK… but can we eat first?" John pressed, pleased to feel her smile against his chest. "I really am starving."

-----

The door to her loft popped open when he rang the bell, having already been buzzed in at the building's entrance. Surprised that Rella wasn't on the other side of the door, John slowly stepped inside. He had left several hours earlier to go to his apartment to change clothes so they could go out to dinner that evening. Max, her feline guard, moved into his path before he could reach the living room.

"Esmerelda?"

Her voice answered from the cantilevered balcony that housed her studio. "Hi. I have an electronic door release up here in case you were wondering how I did that. Come on up. Inspiration hit after you left and I've been working while you were gone. Max… be a good boy and let John pass."

Amused that she had known what her pet was doing even though she couldn't see him, he skirted the brisling cat and made his way up the stairs. Max shot past him half way up and had taken position near his person by the time John reached the balcony. The rest of her menagerie had found places scattered around the space and were sleeping… or watching her paint as their mood demanded. Fancy and Will rose quickly to greet him and demand a petting as tribute. Tal's thick tail beat the floor in greeting as the huge dog lounged nearby.

"I'm sorry not to be ready, but it's your fault. You inspired me!" she teased, grinning at him around a large easel. She had donned a pair of oversized overalls to protect her clothes, the effect oddly alluring to his hungry eyes. "Would you mind if I worked a little longer to get this to a good stopping place?"

Captivated by the return of the temptress smile, John shook his head as he walked over to see the canvas. Her smile turned devilish as she held up her hand to halt his approach. "Not yet, Johnny. I want to finish it before you see it."

Canting an eyebrow, he laughed. "Nobody has dared call me Johnny since I got out of high school! And what are you painting that I can't see it yet?"

A bright red blush swept over her features. "You'll see when it's finished. Now be a good boy and don't peak, Johnny."

"Be a good boy?" he demanded, a grin that matched hers lighting his face. "I haven't been a good boy since… ever!"

Laughing, Rella went back to her painting. "I may not have known you long, Johnny, but that much I already figured out! There's a chair behind that canvas."

Nodding, John moved in the direction she had indicated. "Can I look at this one or do I have to be a good boy again and wait?"

"I thought we agreed you were never a good boy… so look as much as you want." Reaching for a fresh tube of white acrylic paint, she offered, "It's one of a series of paintings I've finished for a show I have coming up in December."

Looking up, he asked, "Is that one you're working on… the one that has you blushing, part of that series?"

Leaning around the easel to gauge his reaction, she grinned. "No… if you must know, it's going to join the ones in my bedroom."

Holding her gaze, he smirked, "I thought as much! So, am I invited to the opening of your show?"

"Of course… I'd love for you to come," she exclaimed, relieved he had brought it up.

"As your date or just a guest?"

"Well, I would hope as my date," she clarified, biting her lip in sudden nerves.

"Good. Just checking," he confirmed, studying the painting. "This is amazing! The girl looks a lot like you. Who is she?"

"That's my great-niece, Ava. My brother and sister are a lot older than me," she supplied. "My mother was fifty-one when I was born and Dad was a fifty-six. Josif and Magda were both grown with families of their own by then. I was like an only child in some respects, since my other brother, Greg, is twelve years older than me. I was closer to Ava's mom, Sophie… she's Josif's daughter, than I was to any of them until I was in my twenties. I finally grew up enough to have something in common with them."

"I'm nine years older than my brother, Bernie. After our dad died, I tried to step in and take his place… along with my Uncle Andrew." Pushing aside his lingering grief over Andrew's decision to not accept treatment for his depression-fueled dementia, John added, "Bernie and I are pretty close. His son, Sam, comes to visit me several times a year. Sam's planning to attend NYU's film school in two years, so I hope I get to see them more frequently while he's here."

Pausing, John asked a question that had been nagging at him since they met. "Can I ask… how old are you?"

Chuckling, Rella peaked at him again. "Didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to ask a lady her age?"

Smiling, he agreed. "She mentioned it a few times, but she gave up teaching me manners eventually… you can only beat your head against a brick wall for so long!"

"Ah… that explains it!" she teased. "I'm 41… 42 in January. Why?"

Making sure there were no cats in the chair, John dropped into it cushy comfort. Within seconds, the five kittens were perched in his lap or on the arms and back of the chair. "That makes me over 12 years older than you. Does that bother you… that I'm so much older?"

"I did the math earlier, John, and no, it doesn't bother me at all," she insisted. "You're sixteen years younger than my sister would have been and almost eighteen years younger than Josif. I think we tend to define our contemporaries by the age range of our siblings, so you're well under the limit!"

"They are that much older than you?" he asked, clearly surprised.

"Yeah. My parents… Tatiana and Petre, met in Bucharest while Papa was at University and were married in 1933. Josif was born a year later. Dad is half-Jewish, Mom is half-gypsy, so they fled into the Carpathian Mountains in 1939 hopes of saving their three children from the Nazis. Stefan was only a baby and died of pneumonia the first winter," she offered, setting aside her paint brush long enough to open a small refrigerator hidden under her work table.

Extracting a chilled bottle of white wine, she handed it to him. Two glasses and a corkscrew found their way to him next. "His death nearly tore them apart. Dad joined the resistance and Mom hid with her parents until the war was over."

"I can imagine loosing a child would do that," he murmured, pulling the cork free. After pouring them both a glass of the wine, he asked, "How did your family end up in New York?"

After taking a sip from the glass he handed her, Rella picked up her brush and returned to her work. "They came here in 1947 hoping to start over. Dad finished his law degree at night school and they rebuilt their life together. They had my other brother Gregor in '52, so he's your age. I was a huge surprise coming along more than ten years later. They all spoiled me and are still very protective of me."

"Are your parents still alive? You used present tense when discussing them," he gently pressed.

Nodding, she offered, "They live in an assisted living building on the Upper West Side. I get to visit them several times a week unless they are in Florida with Josif and his wife, Maria. We lost Magda four years ago to lung cancer. She smoked heavily all of her adult life. They have begun to show their age since she died. No parent should have to bury two of their children."

"No," he agreed quietly. "My mom suffered a number of miscarriages both before and after I was born, along with two still births. She still visits their graves."

"You mentioned your mother has Roma blood during one of our phone conversations," she prompted, pausing as her stomach growled.

Laughing, John suggested, "Why don't I order us delivery? That way you can work on your painting as long as you want. It doesn't seem to be getting in the way of our talking."

Grinning, she tossed him her phone. "I have at least half-a-dozen local restaurants programmed into the memory. I'm a pretty good cook, but I don't bother very often just for me. Anyway, there's Greek, Italian, a pizza place, Chinese, Thai, Lebanese, Moroccan, and Russian… French on speed dial. There's a folder of menus in the desk next to you for those restaurants, as well as, several others. Whatever you're in the mood for is fine with me."

"I haven't had Moroccan in a long time. How's that?" he asked, finding the folder of menus with ease. Lady D began to yodel in response to his question. Stifling a laugh, John commented, "Very nice, pretty girl! I'll ask if they have any kibbi for kitties or catnip-kabobs."

"Moroccan sounds great for us, but this crew will be just as happy if you crack open the treat jars on the kitchen counter," Rella teased. "They can be bought and they aren't all that picky."

"Noted," he grinned, relaxed and comfortable with the way their evening was turning out. "Remind me to grab some when we go down for the take-out. So… what's good at this place?"

-----


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Risks, Chapter 4

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC

Rating: M, adult content  
Disclaimer: The Munchkin isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh! DW owns him and the others.  
Summary: A sequel to my Halloween fantasy, _Whispers_. Everything of worth has risks; what would you risk to find true love? JM/OFC & OE

Please R&R!!

Happy Holidays!

------

Risks, Chapter 4

Scanning the squadroom, Olivia asked, "Didn't John come back after court?"

Cragen looked up from the file he was studying with Fin and Elliot. "He called in a few minutes ago to say he was still there waiting to be called, but it looks like he wouldn't get to testify until tomorrow at the earliest. Apparently, the defense attorney hit Casey with a batch of last minute motions. He was royally pissed by the waste of time."

"I feel his pain," she agreed. "I was going to suggest that drink after work, but I guess that's out again. We've been saying we were going to do that for two weeks now, but we can't very well take him for a drink if he's not here."

"I wonder what's up with him? He's been making himself scare a lot lately. And, I thought you had plans with your mystery man," Elliot demanded, unaware of the jealousy that was coloring his voice.

"Never said that," she hedged, smothering a smirk at his reaction. /Too bad John isn't here to enjoy this. He would be having a field day since my mystery man was his idea!/

Frowning, Elliot demanded, "I mentioned making a run to Jersey City to go though their records and you said it would have to wait until tomorrow… you had plans. What changed?"

"I never said who my plans may or may not include," she retorted, turning to pour herself a cup of coffee… and cover her grin. "My plans are for later, so we'd have had time for a drink or two."

"So…?"

Glancing back at him… and the two other amused men struggling not to laugh, she innocently asked, "So… what?"

Irritated, Elliot demanded, "So what are your plans?"

Tilting her head to study him, she reminded him, "When I got back, you made it clear you didn't need a hander. Fine… your call, but why should you then expect to be mine?"

"Fine!" Snatching the folder from Cragen's hands, he stormed off toward the file room. "I see if I can find the records on Marlow's priors."

Once he was gone, Fin fixed her with a pointed stare. "How long you plan to keep this up, Liv? He's about to blow a fuse… has been since you and Munchkin dreamed up your mystery man."

Sighing, she dropped down into the chair next to his desk. "Every time I try to talk to him, he cuts me off. He can't have it both ways… expect to know my business, but keep me at arm's length."

Cragen observed, "Now that his divorce is final, I've been expecting him to ease up on that, but…"

"But what?"

"He isn't ready to take any risks yet, Liv," Don replied. "Admitting he cares for you is a giant risk."

"He wasn't afraid of taking a risk with Dani," she fumed.

"Not the same thing, Liv," Fin corrected. "She was never cut out for this unit… we all saw it even if he didn't want to admit it, so she was a temporary on all counts. Then too, she wasn't ready for a long-term relationship… still had too many issues about her husband to resolve to offer more than a casual thing. He could care about her without the risk of loosing much… offer a little comfort while getting a little for himself."

"Thanks for reminding me he got a little from her! I thought you didn't like her," Olivia retorted, angry and confused.

"Got a little comfort… you know what I meant!" Fin insisted, shaking his head in frustration with the pair. "And it's not so much I didn't like her as she didn't fit in with the flow of things around here… didn't get the subtleties of the work. John didn't like her, but after that deal with his uncle, he had reason."

"So… do you think he fell for her?" she whispered. "Was it more than the desire for a little comfort and sex?"

Leaning back in his chair, Fin continued. "He wasn't in love with her, Liv, but he also didn't have a history with her that might get screwed up by having sex without offering more. Besides, she made him feel in control… protective. He needed that at that moment."

"Needed…"

"You were gone… had left him and he didn't know when… if, you'd be back. Kathy had left him. Look at this from his perspective, Liv. He probably wanted to feel needed and protective more than he wanted sex… though he needed that too." Holding her gaze, he added, "May be time to stop playing this game before it blows in your face. It's served it purpose… was all you could have done at the time. You clearly have his attention again, but it's time to get real… take some risks of your own."

Nodding, Cragen let Fin's observations sink in for a moment before adding, "Fin said it all, Liv. John would agree if you want his opinion. Time for you to take a few risks of your own or let him go."

-----

Rella smiled as John slid into the booth across from her. "How did your testimony go?"

Reaching over to take her right hand, he lifted it to his lips so that he could press a kiss to the palm. "Today was a complete waste of time. I spent the whole day cooling my heels, waiting to be called. The defense attorney hit our ADA with a bunch of frivolous, last-minute motions, dreamed up because he knows his bastard of a client is guilty and doesn't have a chance of winning if the jury actually gets to hear the facts. Said jury spent the day trapped in the jury room, so God only knows what they are thinking. I have to go back tomorrow and try it all again."

Squeezing his hand, she offered, "That sucks. I'm sorry it was such a frustrating day. Hopefully, the delay pissed off the jury and they will not be in too generous a mood with him."

"One can only hope," he agreed, before giving his drink order to their waitress. "How was your day?"

"Other than taking the dogs for walks, I spent most of the day working on a painting I plan to include in the show. Philip, my agent, came by for lunch… and to make sure I was working." Sighing, she added, "He's not very subtle."

"Are you behind in getting ready for the show?" he asked. "I thought you were on track."

Grinning, she tilted her head to study his reaction. "I'm on schedule, but Philip is worried because he's afraid you're a bad influence on me and the show is in less than a month. The gallery selected me for their big holiday show/bash and he is freaking out because his rep is on the line as much as mine. Until I started seeing you, I was all work and very little social life. He's afraid you'll distract me and I'll get behind, Johnny dear."

"That sounds like my life before we met," he offered, lifting her hand for another kiss. "Have I kept you from working too much the last couple of weeks?"

Smiling, she leaned over the table and gave him a lingering kiss. In a throaty voice, she murmured, "Other than inspiring a painting that will never be seen by anyone but us…"

"You still won't let me see it!" he complained, reluctantly leaning back to allow their waitress to place his drink in front of him. Smiling his thanks… something he found himself doing more frequently since he had met Rella, he asked, "Has anyone else seen the paintings in your bedroom… of me… us?"

Blushing slightly, she nodded. "The G and PG ones, but not the others. Those are strictly part of my private collection."

Reaching over to recapture her hand, he smiled, "Good to know. I have a rather unfortunate history of private collection pictures of me ending up in very public places."

Sputtering on her drink, Rella demanded, "What? There are other nude paintings of you floating around?"

"Paintings? None that I know about, but you never know." Chuckling, he tilted his head to watch her over the top of his glasses as he added, "Now, photographs are a different matter."

"Do I dare ask?"

"A youthful indiscretion that came back to haunt me, nothing more," he promised, still grinning broadly.

"Humm… why do I doubt that?" she asked, knowing it was silly to feel jealous, but feeling that way all the same.

"If you ever meet any of the detectives from my old division in Baltimore, I'm sure they will fill in any gaps I left if you ask nicely. In fact, they'll probably tell you even if you don't ask!" he promised, pleased by her reaction. "So, who else has seen the G/PG paintings?"

"A lot of people. I did the first one when I was still a child. It's what led to my parents arranging for me to have art lesions, so I guess I have you to thank for that," she offered, still slightly miffed that another artist had found him first. "My mother loves the ones of you as a boy. She says you reminded her of a boy from her village in Romania."

"Really? My mother has always told me I looked like her baby brother, Duri, when I was little. She came here with my father after the war and never saw him again." Sighing, John added, "She wanted him to come with them then, but he stayed to try and find any of their relatives that survived the war. He found a few… planned to come to America in the '50's, but he died before he could in an influenza outbreak. I remember her getting the news when I was just a small child. It devastated her."

"His name was Duri? Is that short for something?" she asked, intrigued. "Your mother's name is Anna, right?"

"Yes, Anna Ionescu Munch. Her brother was named for their maternal grandfather, a Roma named Durriken Zeigler," he supplied. "I was always surprised they used a Gypsy name for him since my grandfather was the village Rabbi. His name was Mihail Ionescu and his wife's name was Beti."

A stunned expression had overtaken Rella's face. "You said… you mother and her brother hid in the mountains with family during the war, but that your grandparents refused to hide."

Puzzled, John nodded. "Yes, they remained in their village to rally his congregation and ended up being taken to a Nazi work camp where they died. Mother and her brother hid with my Grandmother Beti's sisters. Why? You look… spooked."

Squeezing his hand, she whispered, "John, the boy my mother remembered… the one she said looked like you, was named Durriken. He had an older sister named Anna. I don't remember their last name, but I'm pretty sure their father was a Rabbi. They were in the caravan Mama and my older brother and sister sheltered with during the war."

John sat staring at her for several minutes. "Is it possible… our mothers came from the same small village and actually knew each other?"

"I always visit my parents on Thursday mornings to help them run errands, so I'll ask Mama tomorrow." Holding his gaze, she murmured, _"Si khohaimo may pachivalo sar o chachimo." _(Romany for '_There are lies more believable than truth_.')

-----

"_Bună dimineaţa, Rella_," her mother greeted her, holding open the door to their condominium. "_Ce mai faci?"_ (_Romanian for "Good morning, Rella." " How are you?")_

Kissing her cheek, Rella smiled. "_Mulţumesc, bine. Ce mai faci, Mama_?"

(Romanian for "_Fine, thanks," "How are you, Mama_?")

"My knee is giving me a little trouble, but nothing too bad, dear one," Tatiana Kirpachi replied, linking her arm with her youngest child's. "You are a little early, so join me for a cup of tea. Your father is still watching the morning news. You know we will have to wait for it to be over before he will leave without grumbling."

Grinning, Rella teased, "And the reason for the rest of his grumbling?"

"He's Romanian!" her mother agreed, sharing her grin. "Go speak to him and let him know you are here while I make fresh tea for you."

"Sit and rest your knee so you will enjoy the morning," Rella urged. "I'll put on the kettle to boil, then go speak to Papa."

Pausing at the door to the den a few minutes later, Rella smiled fondly at the sight that greeted her. Her 98-year old father was leaning forward in his chair and offering a running commentary. The latest news on the war seemed to be the cause of his current ire. Petre Kirpachi's mind had remained as sharp as ever and he was not shy about expressing his opinion… or criticism.

"_Bună dimineaţa, Papa_," she called, walking over to kiss the top of his head. It still amazed her that he had retained a full-head of blue-black hair well into his 90's.

"Rella… you're early!"

"So, Mama has already told me," she agreed. "We are having a cup of tea before we leave, so no rush. Come join us when the news is over."

"I cannot believe what a mess these idiots have gotten us into in Iraq! War is not something to be undertaken so lightly!" he complained, settling back into his chair. "Bring me a cup of tea if you will."

"Do you want another biscuit?' she asked, relieved to see his mind still so engaged in the world.

Sending her a devilish grin, he nodded. "See if you can sneak me one past the warden in there! She says I need to cut down on sweets."

Chuckling, she turned back to the kitchen. "I'll see what I can do… maybe a stale crust of bread and a tin of water."

Snorting with amusement, Petre turned back to the TV and was soon arguing with the pundits again. Comforted by the sight… at their advanced ages, she did not take any visit with her parents for granted, Rella returned to the kitchen and finished making the tea. Once it had steeped, she fixed her father a cup to his liking and snatched a couple of tea biscuits to take to him. Her mother pretended not to notice, smiling fondly as Rella left the room.

Stirring her tea as Rella joined her at the kitchen table a few minutes later, Tatiana studied her 'miracle child' closely for a moment, finding signs of something she had despaired of ever seeing. Her Rella was in love. "Who is he?"

Startled, Rella looked up from adding honey to her cup. Seeing the excitement in her mother's eyes, she relented rather than make her work for it. "John… John Munch. He's a police detective."

"A policeman? What is he like?" her mother demanded, already beginning to plan the wedding.

"Opinionated, sarcastic, torn between protecting personal rights and the need to ignore them to get the monsters they deal with off the street… he works in the Special Victims Unit," Rella began. "He's passionate about his work, thinks everything is a conspiracy, and is the most fascinating man I've ever met."

Chuckling, her mother nodded. "Sounds a lot like your father. They should get along well."

"He's also been divorced… more than once and is Jewish," she added quickly, worried what her devote Catholic mother would say about that. "And, he's 54."

"Why should his being Jewish bother me, Rella? Your father is half Jewish after all. You know your heart… your relationship with God is part of you. We are all called to him as he wills it; you heard his call as a Catholic and that is not likely to change because you now love this man," Tatiana began. "The age difference is not so great and is no more important to me than it was when you sister married Jack. They had a good life together and he loved her dearly. I often think she didn't fight her cancer as much as she could have because she wanted to be with him again."

"I am, however, more concerned that he has been married before and is divorced," she admitted. "But, I will give him a chance to prove himself to me before I say more. If you love him… and I can see you do, he must be a worthy man."

"He is." Hesitating, Rella admitted, "Mama, there's more. Do you remember the paintings… sketches I've done since I was a child of the man from my dreams?"

"John is this man?" her mother asked, confident now that the new couple would find a way to make this work. The gypsy influences of her youth still called to her spirit and she believed in the power of dreams. "I have always wondered about that. If he is the one you have long foreseen, then he is your destiny."

"He is. He has had dreams of me too," Rella added, dropping her head to try and hid the blush the memory of their first night together… his reaction to her paintings, inspired.

Laughing, he mother held up her hand. "Seeing that blush, I do not think I wish to know more!"

Feeling her blush deepen, Rella concentrated on her tea. "His mother is Romanian… half-Roma, like you, Mama. She grew up in a village in the Carpathian Mountains. Her name is Anna Ionescu Munch. She had a younger brother she called Duri… named for their maternal grandfather, Durriken Zeigler. Her father was the village Rabbi… Mihail Ionescu and his wife was Beti. They died in a work camp after sending their children to hide with a Roma caravan."

Looking up, she noted the surprise on her mother's face. "You always said my pictures of him as a youth reminded you of a boy from your village… Durriken. Is John his nephew?"

"He must be," Tatiana murmured. "Those are the names of that boy's family. I have not thought of them in many years. Anna… his mother, is still alive?"

Catching her mother's shaking hands, Rella nodded. "She married an American soldier and moved here after the war. They settled in Baltimore. John says she lives in a retirement home there and is in good health. He goes to see her every month."

Wiping a tear from her face, Tatiana smiled. "I wish to meet your John… and perhaps renew my friendship with his mother."

"Who is Rella's John… and this friend of which you speak?" Petre's voice demanded from the doorway. "Has she finally decided to accept a suitor and give us grandchildren?"

"Come and join us, Petre, and we will tell you," his wife offered, dropping her voice to add for Rella's hearing alone, "but I suggest you leave out that blush for now. Your father will not be as understanding as I am. You are his baby girl and always will be."

Grinning, Rella nodded as she slid around the booth to make room for her father.

-----


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Risks, Chapter 5

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC

Rating: M, adult content  
Disclaimer: The Munchkin isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh! DW owns him and the others.  
Summary: A sequel to my Halloween fantasy, _Whispers_. Everything of worth has risks; what would you risk to find true love? JM/OFC & OE

Feedback appreciated... pretty please!!!

------

Risks, Chapter 5

"Hey, John… where you off to?"

Looking back toward his partner, John pointed to the clock on the wall above the coffee pot. "In case you hadn't noticed, it's after 5 on a Friday afternoon. I actually thought I might partake of life outside the confines of this building. You should give it a try sometime."

"Keep being a sarcastic bastard and I'll change my mind about asking if you want to go for a beer," Fin retorted.

"Take me as I am; I'm not changing at this point," John quipped. "A beer sounds good, but I need to ask for a raincheck. I have to go home and get changed. I have plans for tonight."

"The Munchkin has plans?" Elliot demanded, coming up behind him. "This is big news, buddy. A beautiful lady involved?"

"Could be, but I don't kiss and tell… like some people I know," he retorted, giving Fin an over-the-top of his glasses smirk. "That would be the other half of the dynamic duo of Munch and Tutuola."

Glaring, Fin corrected, "That's Tutuola and Munch, smartass."

Olivia had followed Elliot into the squadroom. Stopping at John's side, she placed a hand on his arm. "Something fun I hope."

Relenting… a little, in response to her smile, he offered, "I've been invited to dinner at an elderly couple's home. Mrs. Kirpachi is from the same village as my mother in the old country. They hid together with a Gypsy band during the war, but lost touch afterwards. They want to meet me."

"Your mom's Romanian, right? Your dad was Danish?"

"Da."

"Can't say that sounds like much fun to me… spending the evening talking about the Nazis and death camps," Fin observed. "Sure you don't want a beer or three to get you mellow for the rest?"

"Actually, I do, but I somehow don't think I'd make a very good impression if I showed up with beer on my breath, wearing the same clothes I wore all day to work," John lamented. "They're old-world, so I should show a little respect visiting their home."

"Your mother would be so proud," Olivia teased. "Her little Johnny is such a gentleman!"

"Yeah, right!" John laughed. "More likely she would faint from shock."

"Now, that sounds right!" Fin agreed, trading a grin with Elliot. "You two up for a beer?"

"Count me in," Elliot agreed, "but Liv probably has plans with the 'mystery man'."

Biting back a retort, Olivia forced herself to smile. "Nope. Free as a bird. Give me a few minutes to finish the DD5 on the Rollins case and we can go. "

A revived smile lit Elliot's face. "Well, OK then. I need to re-file the stuff we pulled on the Marlow case, so that should give you enough time. John, you still plan to bring the cat over for Elizabeth tomorrow?"

"Be there around one," John confirmed.

"Great. Have fun tonight being the good son. You two wait on me," he instructed, before disappearing down the hall.

Watching him as he hurried out of the room, Olivia murmured, "I have been… for years."

Rolling his eyes, Fin rose and walked toward Cragen's office. "Hope the Cap can come. Otherwise, I have the feeling I'll be playing third wheel and making an early exit."

Chuckling at his partner's observations, John looked back to Olivia. Seeing her undisguised longing, he urged, "Go for it, Liv. Take a few risks. That's the only way you'll ever know."

Cocking her head to study him, she asked, "Speaking from experience, John? You seem… happier lately than I can ever remember seeing you. Got any secrets to share?"

An amused chuckle was his only reply to her question. Pulling on his coat, John countered, "Just repeating the advice you gave me a few weeks ago. Risks, Olivia… take a few risks."

-----

"I need to warn you…"

Looking over at his lover, John was again struck by how beautiful she was. Refusing to become distracted by her lovely green eyes while her safety was in his care, he forced his eyes back to the road. "Warn me? That doesn't sound promising."

Sighing, she cautioned, "My oldest brother and his wife are in town and will be joining us for dinner. Sophie and her husband will be there as well. Mama didn't tell me until just before you arrived to pick me up."

"Ok… but why didn't she tell you sooner?" he asked, easing his car into an opening in the heavy Friday evening traffic. "Is it that big a deal?"

"Think about it, John! I'm Josif's **baby **sister. With the big difference in our ages, he's more like a second father most of the time rather than my brother," she moaned. "He plans to grill you… put you through the ringer! That will only inspire Papa to do the same… or should I say, be worse than he would otherwise have been. They are brutal when they get together and gang up on someone. Mama knows this. She should have warned me earlier!"

"And your mother didn't tell you earlier because… why? She was afraid you would warn me so I could be prepared… or that you would argue with her, try to get her to un-invite them… maybe, give me time to find an excuse not to come?" he pressed, his nerves escalating in response to hers. Meeting 'the parents' wasn't any easier at 54 than it had been when he was 20.

Nodding, she offered, "We could always say you got called back to work on a case."

"Are you afraid they won't approve of me, Rella?" John asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"Of course not! You and my father will get along great once he gets through grilling you. He's a conspiracy nut too!" she insisted, ignoring his snort of laughter at her description of his interests. "It's just that it's too soon for them to demand to know your intentions towards me. I…"

"Do you want to know my intentions towards you?" he quietly interjected, suddenly confident the time had come to admit his growing feelings to her.

Wide-eyed, she held his gaze as they stopped at another light. "Yes… I think it's only fair for me to know before they do."

Chuckling at her comment, he leaned over to gently kiss her. "My intentions are as honorable as any man's intentions can be when you're talking about the most beautiful, desirable woman he's ever seen. I'm falling in love with you, Rella. I'm hoping like hell you feel the same and want to try to make this work… permanently."

A soft gasp of wonder left her lips as she tugged his head down to hers. When they finally broke apart, she whispered, "I'm falling in love with you too, John. My intentions are a lot like yours."

A contented glow settled into the depths of John's eyes. "Good to know. I guess we are as ready to face the music as we are ever likely to be then. And it's better to have the first meeting out of the way before your show opens. You don't need to add that tension to the mix."

"True. Now hush and kiss me again."

The loud blaring of horns finally got their attention. Pressing a last quick kiss to her lips, John turned back to his driving. "And there is the business of Max. I still haven't won him over… I'm on a mission."

Giggling in relief at having this conversation behind them, Rella teased, "Max has never been won over by anyone. He's a one person cat. He still hisses at you when he finds you sitting on the couch, much less sleeping in my bed."

"He can hiss all he wants. He'll just have to get used to my being there because I don't plan to leave it now that I've found you," John promised, reaching over to take her hand in a possessive grip.

"Then, I'll leave it to you to work out a truce with him. That should be fun to watch!"

-----

The man in the next car shook himself and forced his attention back to the traffic. "Damn! That was Munch! Munch and the lady we saw on Halloween! Munch and the gorgeous lady from the bar kissing… passionately! Damn!"

-----

Esmerelda had had enough. "OK, the Inquisition is officially over! Leave John alone and eat your meal before it gets cold!"

Two identical pairs of brown eyes turned in her direction. Seeing the fierce glow in her green ones, father and son decided a strategic retreat was in order. "The roast is delicious, Sophie. You outdid yourself tonight," her grandfather offered.

"I was happy to come over and give G-Mama a hand with the meal." Trading a grin with her husband, she added, "It was also the most effective way to be sure David and I got ringside seats to the show!"

Flashing green eyes turned in her direction. "Keep it up, Soph…"

"Hey, don't turn on me! I seem to remember you were sitting right where I am the night they did this to David and didn't say a word to help him!" her niece and best friend retorted. "Payback's hell!"

"Damn it, they weren't this bad to David!" Rella insisted, reaching over to seize John's hand in a protective grip.

"Like hell they weren't!" Sophie chuckled, doing the same to her husband's. "I was sure I'd never see him again after that night."

"Language, my dears," Tatiana interjected, taking a sip of her wine.

Squeezing her hand, John soothed, "While I appreciate the support, honey, I'm fine. I've been a cop for over twenty years, so I've had enough dealings with lawyers not to be overly intimidated now. Besides, they are just looking out for you; I figure it's justified. God knows you could do a lot better than me."

"Don't! I hate it when you run yourself down. You're a wonderful man and I'm lucky to have met you," she insisted, frustrated by the entire evening.

"I'm glad you feel that way, Rella," he admitted, touched by her defense. "They are only concerned with your best interests and I can hardly object to that, now can I? I want the same thing."

"John has dealt with serial killers, Rella, so Papa and I must seem quite tame in comparison," Josif offered, trying not to laugh at the outrage on his sister's face.

Chuckling, John replied, "Actually, serial killers are easier to handle. They are usually shackled and I'm the one doing the questioning. On the up side, I've picked up some nasty new interrogation techniques tonight I'll use the next time I interview a perp."

"Oh goodness! The two of you behave and leave John alone," Tatiana insisted, a grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. "I don't want my dinner parties to get that type of reputation and I very much hope John will be willing to come back again soon."

"It would be my pleasure, Madam Kirpachi," John replied, relaxing slightly in hopes the worst was over. He quickly realized his mistake.

"Good. After Christmas, my husband and I usually go to Florida for a few months to avoid the worst of the cold weather. We go by train, so that we can rest whenever we tire. Flying is so stressful for me; I never grew comfortable with it," Tatiana began, fixing John with a determined stare. "At our age, one needs the comforts when traveling, so the train is ideal."

Unsure of where this was going, John tentatively offered, "I've always loved flying, but I enjoy traveling by train too."

"I am glad to hear this. Perhaps you and Rella might come with us as far as Baltimore so that I can visit your mother, John," she proposed, clearly determined to make **her** position clear. Her baby was obviously in love with him and she was pleased to discover she liked him… that he reminded her of her own husband. "I would very much like to see her again and at our age, it isn't wise to put such matters off for too long. Indeed, there are several **very** **important things** I wish to see before I die… some I have been waiting for since my daughter was but a baby."

Sputtering on her wine, Rella stared at her mother in shock. Sophie and her mother, Maria, rose quickly to begin clearing the table for dessert, grabbing a few plates before disappearing into the kitchen. David followed on their heels with Josif bringing up the rear. The closed door failed to muffle their combined laughter.

Taking a deep breath to clear her throat, Rella silently fumed. /Great! First Papa and Josif try to scare him off and now Mama is dropping none too subtle hints about setting a date. We've been dating for less than a month, for pity sake! What did I do to deserve this?!/

Squeezing her hand again, John lifted it to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the knuckles. "I understand, Madam Kirpachi. Some events are more important than others, especially to parents. Tell me when you plan to leave and I'll see if I can arrange to take time off from work to make the trip. My mother was very excited to hear I was dining with you and your family tonight. She would very much like to see you again, as well."

Smiling broadly that he had taken her meaning and appeared to be amenable to her directive, Tatiana replied, "Excellent. Please give me her address and I will write to her tomorrow."

Rella stifled a groan. /Perfect! Now she plans to enlist his mother in putting pressure on him! Anna Munch doesn't even know me… and John can't be interested in jumping ahead this fast! How did I let us get roped into this? Mrs. Munch isn't going to be happy with me as a prospective daughter-in-law. I'm Catholic… not the 'nice Jewish girl' she's wanting for her oldest son./

/I never saw this one coming… but I guess I should have. She's already planning our wedding! I wonder if Rella and I will be allowed an opinion?/ John mused, struggling not to grin. /Mother will love this! She's already asking if I'm serious about Rella. Rella may not be Jewish, but she's Romanian and part Roma. With my track record, that is good enough at this point! I won't know how to act having her actually approve of someone I'm dating, much less marrying! Damn, did I really just…/

"Good. Now that this matter is settled, you will be joining us for Thanksgiving," Tatiana instructed, taking his agreement as a given. "We dine in the evening, so you will still be able to join us even if you must work that day. Tell me, John…"

-----

"So… you and your mystery man aren't doing anything tonight?" Elliot asked, staring into his half-empty glass of beer. Fin and Don had already left, both claiming they had other plans they had suddenly remembered. Now that he had Olivia to himself, he wasn't able to resist finding out if he had any reason to hope she might one day turn to him.

Tilting her head to study him, Olivia took a deep breath… and a big risk. "Kind of hard to do something with a man I made-up. I'd rather be here with you."

"What?!!!"

-----


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Risks, Chapter 6

Author: Sorsha711  
Fandom/Pairing: JM/OFC

Rating: M, adult content  
Disclaimer: The Munchkin isn't mine, except in my dreams! Sigh! DW owns him and the others.  
Summary: A sequel to my Halloween fantasy, _Whispers_. Everything of worth has risks; what would you risk to find true love? JM/OFC & OE

Feedback PLEASE!!! Happy New Year!!!

------

Risks, Chapter 6

"I'm so sorry about that, Johnny," Rella groaned, stepping onto the elevator after leaving her parent's condo. Collapsing against the far wall, she complained, "I knew Papa and Josif would be relentless, but… I can't believe Mama all but demanded you set a date for our wedding!"

Chuckling, John tapped the button for the third floor and the access to the skywalk to the parking garage across the street from the Kirpachi's building. "Frankly, I think I got off pretty light all things considered, baby. You had me expecting bamboo splints under my fingernails and thumbscrews. Your family is sweet. I enjoyed meeting them."

"Light? How could you enjoy that… torture session? They asked you all sorts of personal questions they had no right to ask!" she exclaimed. "They asked you about your ex-wives for God's sakes!!!"

Following her off the elevator, John pulled her to a stop and tugged her into his arms. "Be honest… you're just mad that they asked before you did. You wanted to grill me about them too, but had been biding your time. Did you get answers to all your questions or do you want to continue the questioning over a bottle of wine at your place?"

"How can you joke about it?" Rella demanded. "They had no right…"

"Of course, they did. I suspect you haven't brought many men home to meet the family over the years… for good reason I might add. An evening with the Kirpachi clan isn't for the faint of heart!" he teased, tilting his head to wink at her over the top of his glasses. "Showing up with me told them we are serious about each other, Rella. They are worried you're throwing yourself away on someone that doesn't deserve you… and they're right."

"Stop doing that!" she exclaimed, squeezing his shoulders. "Why do you always make comments about yourself like that? You are a wonderful man and I'm lucky to know you!"

Bending to kiss her, he whispered, "I'm glad you think that. As long as you do, I'm satisfied."

Leaning limply against him when he finally broke the kiss, she murmured, "You really don't have a problem with making that trip to Baltimore?"

Holding her close, John shook his head. "No, I usually visit my family over New Years. I generally work Christmas to leave the others free to celebrate with their families. My mother will be excited to see your folks again. But I warn you… Mom will be worse than your mother ever thought about being. The prospect of a daughter-in-law she might actually approve of is making her giddy. Get the two of them together… do you speak Romanian?"

"Da." Looking up to meet his gaze, she cautiously asked, "She approves of your seeing me… knows I'm not Jewish?"

"Good. Mine's only so-so. Yiddish I can cover since they will probably enlist my brother and his wife. One of us needs to keep an ear on them at all times so we know what they are plotting," he joked. "And, yes, she's thrilled we are seeing each other. You're Romanian… and part Roma to boot. I'm not sure how to act having her approve!"

"That's a relief." she whispered, finally relaxing. "My Romany is pretty weak. How's yours?"

"Mom refused to teach me… bad memories. She didn't want her children persecuted for that heritage, but she still takes great pride in being part Roma," he admitted. "Odd mix of emotions."

She was silent for a moment, filing that piece of information away for discussion at a later date. "You do realize that setting a date is only the first demand we will be hearing from them don't you?"

"Yep… the wedding toasts will be followed by 'when are you giving us grandbabies?'. We won't even make it out the door for our honeymoon without them exacting promises," he predicted.

Hesitant green eyes lifted to meet his. "Do you want children, John?"

Smiling softly, he nodded. "Actually, I always did… not that I was willing to admit it then, but my ex's didn't… so, no children. I guess it was for the best given how things turned out. Do you? If not, I'm OK with that."

A hopeful smile preceded, "I've always wanted children too. My pets were substitutes on some levels… not that I will give them up even if we have children."

Nodding in agreement, he rested his forehead against hers. "Well, I guess that's settled… except for dates, names, and numbers. I'm sure they will tell us what they have decided once they confer."

"You're taking this awfully well," Rella noted, fascinated by his twinkling gaze.

"I've had a lot of years to dream of you, Rella," he murmured. "Now, I'm just thankful to finally have the chance to see if dreams really do come true."

Their kiss was interrupted by, "Good thing Mom and Dad took a cab home. Somehow, I doubt Dad would approve of John making out with his baby sister in a public place."

Breaking apart, they found they had been joined by Sophie and David McAlister. David smirked as he added to his wife's observations. "I doubt your father would approve of him making out with his baby sister in private either… at least until he makes an honest woman of her. He and your father still think she should be living at home and have a chaperone at all times."

Grinning, Rella demanded, "Speaking from experience, David? I seem to remember Josif kept giving you the evil eye for years… until DJ was born. He's actually smiled at you a few times since Eva and Maria came along and became the darlings of his life."

"Damn right I'm speaking from experience! I have scars! In my opinion, John got off way too easy tonight," the stock broker complained. "They must be getting worried you're getting a little long in the tooth and… Hey! No hitting!"

Shaking her head at her husband's teasing, Sophie offered, "The kids are with David's parents tonight, so we have a rare night out. We were thinking of going to that jazz club in the East Village you were telling us about. Care to join us?"

Trading a look, the new couple nodded their heads in agreement. Rella insisted, "But no more talk about tonight's dinner or our parents! I don't care what you say, they were far harder on John than they were on you! Mama actually demanded a wedding in the near future!"

Grinning at John, David motioned for them to lead the way. "If you say so, Auntie dear. I still think they are worried you've been on the shelf too long."

Used to the banter that routinely flowed between her husband and aunt, Sophie ignored them both. "John, why don't you two leave your car at Rella's and we can all drive to the club together in our car. It is always so hard to find parking in the Village at this time of night and we will be close to Rella's on the way back to our place anyway."

"Fine by me," he agreed, cheerfully embracing the welcome her family was giving him. /Another first! I always worried Gwen's mother would hire a hit man to knock me off if we had stayed married much longer. She hated me on sight!/ "Where do you live…"

----

"What are you playing at, Olivia? You've been lying and telling all of us that you were seeing someone that you made up?" Elliot demanded, confused and angry with her. "I have to trust you and now I find out you've been lying to me! How do any of us trust you after this?"

Sighing, Olivia tried to place a calming hand on his arm, but he shrugged it off with an impatient hand. "It's not like that, Elliot. I didn't make up someone to play you. I was confused and hurting and… I needed to feel less vulnerable. You've been holding me at arm's length since long before I left to go undercover and I needed…"

"Needed what? And you did more than your share of closing me out… have for at least as long as that," he demanded. "Why? I need to understand this, Liv. Otherwise, I can't trust you."

"My feelings for you, El… they got way too complicated a long time ago. You were married, so I never expected anything… I honestly didn't want anything to happen because you aren't the type of man to cheat. I didn't want to ever see you in that position because of me," she whispered. "Then, you and Kathy separated and you were going through hell. There was no place for me in that other than as a friend, but you pushed me away when I tried to be supportive."

"I had to work that through myself," he insisted, feeling defensive.

Nodding, she acknowledged, "I know, but you were my partner and I felt helpless not being able to help. You made it very clear that was all you wanted, so I tried to live with the situation, but it got to be too hard and I started building a wall around myself. When, you told me we could never let our partnership get in the way of doing the job… that you would have shot Gitano and probably killed me in the process, I had to take a break from you. I was devastated by that. I never got over it."

"Olivia…"

Holding up her hand to halt his response, she took a deep breath before admitting, "When I got back to the City after my FBI stint, I came by the office… and saw you with Dani. It was pretty clear to me how things stood between you two and it hurt like hell. I asked Don for some more time and went home to try to regroup."

"You came by and didn't let me know you were back?" he exclaimed, raking his hand through his hair in an agitated manner. "I was worried about you, damn it! What could you have seen that made it ok to keep me in the dark that you were safe?"

"I saw how you were looking at her," she whispered. "You had never looked at me like that. I had been telling myself you would never let yourself get involved with your partner… that this was the reason you kept pushing me away, but seeing you with her blew that theory out of the water. You two were having an affair and she was your partner. I was devastated, so I hid."

"You know about… about me and Dani?"

Looking away, she murmured, "Everybody knows, Elliot. It was obvious."

"The Cap… John and Fin know?" he pressed, stunned. He had been so sure he had covered his tracks.

"Yeah," she confirmed, risking a sidelong glace at him. "They also knew how I felt about you and… they were caught in the middle. When I came back, you made it clear I wasn't welcome that close… told me you didn't need me…"

"I never said that!" he insisted, angry and confused.

"Not in so many words, but… that first case back, you asked if Cragen had sent me to look after you… said you didn't need a handler." Taking a swallow of her beer to ease her suddenly dry throat, she continued. "You gave off mixed signals and I had no clue of how to react to you anymore, so I decided to hide… pretend I had someone in my life. I needed time to figure out what was going on with you… and Dani. I didn't know if you still wanted me as your partner, even if that was all we ever had together. Yes, I guess I did lie, but I didn't do it to betray you or to make things difficult. It was self-preservation, not some major conspiracy."

"The others know there is no mystery man don't they?" he demanded, feeling his emotions bubbling out of control. "They were having fun watching me make an ass of myself."

"Not really; they were stuck in the middle and didn't know how to help." Sighing, she reached for her wallet and pulled out enough money to pay for her share of the tab. "They were the ones to tell me to stop hiding and be up-front with you, so they sided with you in the end. If you want, I'll transfer so you can get a new partner… one you trust."

Elliot grabbed her arm before she could leave. "How… how do you feel about me, Liv? You haven't really said."

Looking into his eyes, she murmured, "I love you, Elliot. I have for a very long time."

Elliot caught up with her outside the bar. Pulling her to a stop, he urged her around so that they were facing each other. "You love me?"

"Yeah." Oblivious to the tears that were streaming down her face, she whispered, "I need to go, Elliot. Don't make this harder on either of us than it has to be. I'll ask Cragen for a transfer on Monday."

Reaching up to gently caress her cheek, wiping away her tears in the process, he pressed, "Do you want a transfer, Liv?"

Unconsciously nestling her face into the curve of his palm, she admitted, "It's the last thing I want, but… one of us will have to leave after this and I don't expect it to be you."

Smiling slightly, Elliot proposed, "So you don't think we can have both a professional and a personal relationship? You don't think we can do both?"

Stunned brown eyes lit with cautious hope. "Elliot… what are you saying?"

Bending his head to rest his forehead against hers, he whispered, "I'm sorry I hurt you for so long, Liv. I was confused too."

"And?" she breathed.

"I love you too."

-----

The front door banged against the wall as they stumbled inside, both too consumed by their need for the other to care that they were disturbing the neighbors with the noise. Shoving the door shut with his foot, he pushed his lover against the wall and began to trail kisses from her ear to her throat.

Unwilling… unable to passively allow him to control their lovemaking, she raked her fingers through his hair, letting her nails scrap and bite at his scalp. He growled in response to the stimulation, easing away from her body just enough to let her shove his heavy winter-coat and jacket off of his shoulders. He took the opportunity to so the same for her.

Freed of the insulation of the bulky outer garments, the heat of each others bodies reached out to enflame already over-sensitized flesh. Moaning loudly, frantic fingers tore at the remaining clothing keeping them from feeling the heat of skin-on-skin. Clothes, some of them with buttons missing, fell in a heap around their straining bodies.

Unable to wait for the time it would take to reach the couch or the bed, their bodies twined together… fused like molten metal. The storm didn't last long enough to truly satisfy either of them. It did little more than stoke the flames of their passion.

Lips still locked, they tried to make their way to the bed. The clothes wrapped around their legs and ankles hindered their progress and they fell to the floor, rolling together, oblivious to their location. It was some time before they rose and made the trip the rest of the way to bed.

Wicked, sated grins wreathed both faces as they joked about what had happened. Falling into bed, the humor of but a moment ago vanished and their passion took control once again.

-----

A/N --- I deliberately didn't name the above couple. Reader's choice of who they are… or if a similar scene is playing itself out in more than one apartment in New York City! It's a very big place after all, so who knows! WEG! Maybe it was Don and his date! Am I the only one that didn't need that mental image?!!


End file.
